Chapter Text
Dennis Whitaker never expected to have soulmates.
He was born in Broken Bow, Nebraska, where everyone knew everyone. It was a small community.
He was so sure that he'd stay there. That he'll find his someone there. That he'll start seeing colors pretty much as soon as he starts school.
He was wrong.
There was no pretending. Sure, maybe he could've pretended that he did, in fact, see that the apples were red, the sky was blue, and the ground was yellow, but it was hard to do. So he didn't.
That cost him his identity and dignity.
His parents started to get harsher on him. His brothers made fun of him. His classmates and teachers looked at him with too much pity when there was a particular topic about colors.
That's when he realized that he wasn't giving up. He would find his soulmates somewhere, and he was going to be happy with them.
He wanted and needed to leave this place.
So he did.
Now he was here, in Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, waking up for his shift at the hospital, where he squatted out. He'd been here since his rotation for Internal Medicine a month ago. Now, it was the first day of his ER rotation.
He was nervous. Sure, he'd been in the ER before during his third year, but he'd heard that PTMC was one of the best ones yet. He wasn't sure how he'd been accepted at all, but he takes the wins he gets.
He got ready in the dingy but functional room. He rinsed his hair, brushed his teeth, and chomped on one of the designated granola bars for the day.
He packed his bag with his things that he didn't want to lose if ever someone did find the room. Then by 6:50 he was out.
———
Dennis Whitaker was a changed man. Maybe for the worse, maybe for the best. He'd found his soulmate, and he wasn't homeless anymore.
Okay, maybe he's lying about the soulmate part. Can't he just say that he knew who it was, but since it didn't really seem to matter to the other half, he just... never brought it up, either.
For the first month that he'd lived with Trinity after she found him on the 8th floor, she's been asking subtly if he had a soulmate.
He always answered vaguely. He tried to feign innocence by sometimes messing up colors and their names. He tried, trust him.
It only happened 11 months ago, when he looked for a senior resident to consult, only to be grabbed by Dr. Robby and forced to present.
"Ah ah ah," Dr. Robby said as he grabbed him, forcing him to face the man.
What the fuck.
His eyes suddenly flashed with vibrancy.
What the fuck times two.
A headache formed quickly.
It's so...vibrant. It was brighter than white. The more he blinked, the more he couldn't believe it.
He was seeing colors!
Wait. That means—
"You okay, Whitaker?" The man let go of him now; he seemed unbothered by it.
What?
Okay. Maybe Dr. Robby was just keeping it professional for his sake. Yeah. Alright.
"Uh- yeah. I had a case for Dr. Collins?"
And yet. It wasn't brought up. At least once. Nothing.
By the time his rotation ended, there was nothing. Still silent on the whole thing, and it stung.
Was he that unlovable? unworthy?
Maybe he really was.
———
He only understood a week later when he saw Jack Abbot.
The first time he'd been acquainted with the man was when he clocked in for the Pittfest shift with his go-bag, which was cool. Then sometimes the man would clock in earlier than he was supposed to. Sometimes he would help pick up cases, or sometimes he would hang around the on-call room.
He saw the night shift attending with Robby. The way they seamlessly moved around difficult cases. Equipment was already handed out to each other before they even spoke. Their diagnoses were clear and concise, and they both knew when to let the other take the lead.
It was undeniable that the two were soulmates. Even before Dennis was in the ED, it was well known that the two were soulmates.
In turn, that meant that Dennis had two soulmates.
He tried to look it up. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with him from the start. Maybe this was just a mistake. He knew that people with two soulmates existed; he just didn't think it would be him.
And seriously, not one but two of his attendings?
What a joke.
But nothing came up. There was only one thing that was for sure, and that was it's impossible for one person to be soulmates with one but not the other.
Once he was sure he reached a dead end, he never wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
At least he knew now why his attending hadn't reacted. It was because he already met his other soulmate. There wouldn't be any other indicators otherwise (that may be a lie; there were other indicators, but he chooses to ignore those). He was a delayed soulmate.
Despite all the research saying that a delayed soulmate should eventually introduce himself as one, he concluded that they deserved better than him. They found each other first after all. He didn't want to intrude on their relationship.
Not when they looked so linked. Dennis wanted that too.
So, he kept his distance. It was hard at first, especially since his attending, Robby, had his hands on his neck and shoulders. "Manhandling" (Trinity's words, not his) him every chance the man gets.
But he did. Eventually. He pointedly slipped from Robby's hands as they were about to touch him, and the man seemed to notice.
After that, the attending stopped.
Dennis would be lying if he said that his chest didn't ache at the action, though.
He didn't see the way that Robby furrowed his eyebrows when he did.
———
Before he knew it, he was coughing for almost half of his last year in medical school.
He was through his pediatric rotation when he had to take a break because his lungs burned as an object lodged itself there. He felt and heard his breathing get shallow. His chest ached as he felt his lungs getting full of prickly things. 'Almost like branches,' he thought.
Thankfully, somewhere around after Pittfest and after Trinity had taken him in, he was able to afford the pills.
It didn't take him (a medical student) to figure it out. He was stupid but not blind. He knew what he had the moment he saw purple and magenta petals with twinges of blood on his palm. He knew what disease it was.
Hanahaki.
A particular disease for being unrequited love. Victims are people whose soulmates rejected them, or so they thought. Usually can be cured through surgery, admitting the truth, or plainly knowing what they felt wasn't unrequited. It was rare enough not to happen to just about anyone, but it was also fascinating enough to be studied. So, the world decided to study the disease.
Luckily for Dennis, they had developed pills. Pills for the disease that could prolong the lifespan of someone who had the disease. Not cure it but minimize its damage until the person decides to cure it themselves.
It was cheap enough; apparently big pharmaceutical companies care enough about soulmates to let anyone dirt-poor like Dennis survive through it.
He took them. He knows that logically, he should've told someone. Not only so that he can protect himself if ever he did have a Langdon situation, but also so that he can rely on someone if anything ever went sideways.
That privilege was forced out of him when Trinity suddenly barged into his room while he was sitting on his bed and had the bottle of pills in his hand.
"What the fuck is that?!" Trinity shouted. He was sure they were going to get a knock from their neighboring units again.
"Trin! Lower your voice. You'll get us in trouble." He said as he rolled his eyes and took out one pill, swallowing it dry.
She immediately sat down on the mattress. "Did you really just—?" She went over to him quickly, grabbing the bottle from his hand.
"Hey!" Dennis said, reaching for the container.
Trinity lifted the container up high, making sure the label was facing her so she could read it.
Dennis scrambled behind her as she pushed him with her other arm.
She squinted as she read the label.
Jasminum Samnostreum.
Dennis saw the moment she read the label and knew what it was. He finally gave up on taking the container back.
"What the fuck, Huck?" She said as she lowered the container down.
"Look, I was going to tell you but—" he sighed.
"But what? Jusko po, Den. You didn't trust me enough to tell me that you had Hanahaki? You know what might happen if you forget to take one of these!" She looked at Dennis. Looking at his eyes, searching for any answers.
Dennis looked away as he muttered, "I know, Trin. It wasn't like that. I trust you. More than anyone in my life. It was just..." he paused, running his hands through his face, "it's just so fucking embarrassing. I don't know." he slowly looked up at Trinity.
Trinity looked back at him with soft eyes and said, "I don't think having a rare disease is embarrassing, Huck. I don't think being rejected by a soulmate is embarrassing."
If he wasn't already crying, he was pretty sure a few tears had already run down his cheeks.
Trinity opened her arms while sitting, offering a hug, which Dennis immediately took.
It was a few minutes of silence after that.
"So who is it?" Trinity broke the silence.
"Can you keep it a secret?" He muttered against Trinity's shoulder.
"When did I ever air out your secret, Huck?" She pulled away and looked at him with wiggly eyebrows.
He chuckled wetly, looking at her. "You literally told Javadi that I had never watched Interstellar before."
"Okay, but this is different. Seriously, Huck. I would never tell anyone."
"There's two.. actually..." He hesitates.
"...okay..."
"Would you be surprised if I told you it's Dr. Robby and Abbot?"
"...what?" Trinity looked at him with wide eyes, as if he grew three heads all of a sudden.
"We know they're both soulmates, and I literally didn't see colors until, in your words, Robby manhandled me."
Trinity laughed loudly, "Okay. What the fuck."
Dennis soon followed too.
Yeah. It is absurd to say it out loud anyway, he thought.
Then Trinity stopped abruptly as if she realized something, then she squinted. The voice was now firm. "Is this the case that you never told them or they literally rejected you? Because I'm telling you right now—"
Dennis quickly interrupted her, "I never told them, Trin. So don't go punching your attendings."
"I never said that." She sighed as she now sat at the edge of his bed.
He grins at her, "You implied it."
"Whatever, hucklefuck." She said as she stood up.
She stretched and looked back at him, "Anyway, sappy shit done, that's your dose for the year. You want some palabok? Literally got it delivered, so you better do."
Dennis chuckled as he stood up from his bed too. "Yeah."
And if the two roommates watched a new TV series all night despite having an early shift tomorrow? No one would know except for them. (That's a lie; everyone noticed Santos' grumpy mood and her chugging energy drinks throughout the day.)
And if Trinity constantly reminded him to take his medication? That was for Dennis to notice.